Falling Snow
by morningstar27
Summary: One-shot. Draco reminisces the past and throws away the future.


Falling Snow

[Disclaimer: I do not claim ownership of the characters, settings, or events of Harry Potter. They are property of J.K. Rowlings and her publishers.]

It was Christmas Day at Hogwarts. 

I had never liked Christmas. At the Malfoy Estate, it had meant formalities and expensive gifts I hadn't really wanted. It had never been a family holiday, simply a chance to dazzle people with the Malfoy wealth and power.

Even here, at Hogwarts, I hated Christmas. It was lonely, so lonely in the Great Hall every December 25. But I was used to solitude. 

Entering the Great Hall, I met Dumbledore's blue eyes with my silver apathetic ones. The pity I saw in the Headmaster's gaze angered me, and my hand gripped my wand in my pocket so tightly I could imagine my knuckles were turning white. Keeping my emotionless expression, I walked through the doors leading to the balcony with long strides. 

Leaning against an ornate iron balustrade, I glared at the Hogwarts' grounds. The snow continued its steady descent that had begun early last evening, drowning the world in pristine beauty. A bitter, cold wind whipped my loose blonde hair against my face and chilled me to the bone. It was much too cold to be outside, I knew, but it didn't really matter. I needed to be alone so I could remember.

Just over a year ago my father had died. For months after he had been captured by Potter and sent to Azkaban, he had been trying to convince the Ministry of Magic that he had been forced to join up the Deatheaters again and that he could be a valuable asset to the forces of good as a spy. A fake escape had been organized and acted out, and my father rejoined Voldemort and began his duties for the Ministry. Most people hadn't been tricked by his actions; they knew it was just an attempt by my father to get out of prison. It didn't matter whose side you were fighting for if you were a Malfoy; it only mattered that you were winning. Unfortunately for him, Voldemort was one of the many who could see my father's motivation and had had him killed immediately. 

At first, I had thought my father's death would mean freedom. Instead, I was lost. Everyone at school despised me now. Even the Slytherins scorned me, labeling me a traitor because of my father's actions. All my life, my father had been everything to me- the one I hated above all, the one I had loved the most, the one I had striven not to be, the one I had admired. And suddenly... he was gone, the one who had made me who I was.

Behind me, I heard the door creak open, and I turned around to glare at the intruder. It was Hermione Granger, flinching a bit as she walked into the cold. She ignored my warning expression, walked up to the balcony a few feet away from me and studied the landscape. 

I watched her from the corner of my eye. Her wavy brown hair blew in the wind and wrapped around her pale face. Hermione was not particularly pretty, but her intelligence made up for anything she was lacking in the way of looks. I noticed she was shaking and her lips had a slightly blue tinge, but I didn't remark upon it. My gaze returned to the falling snow. I wished it would embrace me and bury me in its splendor; drown me so that I would fall into a blissfully eternal sleep. 

"It's so beautiful, isn't it?" Hermione turned to me, her brown eyes somber. "It's like a dream... nothing seems real." Looking out onto this scene did seem like a fantasy, as though I were watching the world through another's eyes. She gazed at me, and I again saw pity. I was once more filled with loathing, though much of it directed towards myself. 

"Stop being so empathetic. Stop trying to understand me. I don't want to talk, and I don't want a friend." I answered in a tone more biting then the wind. She shivered again, but didn't look defeated.

"Then what exactly is it that you want, Draco? Please, tell me. Dumbledore has been trying everything this last year to help you. Harry and I- and even Ron, Ron for God's sake- have been going out of our way to try to fix all this! And you... I want to help you Draco, I really do! But..." Tears glistened in her eyes. I hated myself again, with an intensity that was unnerving.

"If you don't want our help, then what do you want?"

The rock salt that Filch had put down on the balcony yesterday was desperately trying to halt the falling flakes, but it was fighting a losing battle. The odds were against it that such a meager amount of salt could stop the onslaught of snow that was still steadily descending, but it was reluctant to stop trying. Part of me admired the strength of the mineral, but I knew that the snow was supposed to coat the world in a storm such as this. And I wasn't about to stop something that was so obviously meant to be from the beginning. 

"All I want is for everyone to leave me the Hell alone." My voice was hollow and cold.

"Are you sure?" Hermione asked, her eyes trying desperately to read mine. I focused on the forest in the distance, making my expression icy. "If that's what you really want..." She gave me a short kiss on the cheek, and I felt warmth for the first time in so long. "If that's what you want, then we'll all leave you alone. Goodbye, Draco." And then, for what I knew would be the last time, the warmth was gone and so was Hermione, the girl who tried so hard to save me and was repaid with a rude dismissal. I had blown my last chance, and now I knew that it was truly over. There was no choice for what to do next, no hope for a different ending. Today, my dream would come true. Today, I would find myself buried in the slow, falling into that long awaited sleep.


End file.
